Stages
by rebelwithcauses
Summary: A step by step process on how to fall to the Dark Side
1. stage 1: grief

"There's another transmission coming in." Hera's voice over the comm was strained, delivering the information as abruptly as she could to Ezra who was already on his feet, running for the main communications area. He was met there by Sabine and Zeb, joining Hera who's knuckles were white as she gripped the edge of the comm station, waiting for the incoming transmission to load. The last one they had found bouncing around various open channels had been days ago, and there had been nothing but silence since then. Silence, and frantic searching, and useless leads. The family huddled together tightly around Hera, for her strength and for theirs, the seconds ticking by longer and longer until finally an image fizzled up on the screen. Thrawn smiled at them and waved, his one-way image feigning enjoyment at seeing them crowded there.

"Hello Rebels." His voice, soft and tinged with malice, drifted from the recording to settle on their collective shoulders. "No doubt you have been waiting in suspense for an update. You'll be happy to know that your precious Jedi Master has yet to give me any useful information... but really, that doesn't matter so much to me at this point." The image of Thrawn shifted to the side, revealing a long vertical table behind him. Kanan was there, as he had been in the past transmissions, his wrists and ankles and waist bound tightly to the metal surface. Thrawn had been considerate enough to send the transmission in high quality, allowing them to take in the deep wounds on Kanan's bare torso, his arms, his face, as if someone had gleefully taken a vibroknife to him, slashing with almost an artistic flair. The skin that wasn't covered in dried blood was lined with charred flesh, signs of repeated use of electric current. His chest moved up and down just barely, and his sightless eyes stared out at them with no indication of awareness.

Thrawn gave them enough time to take in all the details, and then stepped in front of his prisoner again, blocking the view. Hera had made not a single noise, but her intake of breath was sharper when Kanan was suddenly hidden again. Ezra slid his arm under hers, holding onto her with a quiet desperation as the transmission continued.

"He has proven quite resilient, as I'm sure you guessed. Now, as I'm sure you'll remember, I gave you a tempting offer in my last transmission. Give up the location of your new base, and surrender to me, and you will all live. I'm afraid the expiration date on that offer is now passed." From his belt he withdrew a wicked looking knife, playing with the tip against his finger. "I cannot go back on my word, you see, that would make my word worth nothing, and I simply cannot have that." His image withdrew again, this time to Kanan's side, where he took the tip of the knife and drew it slowly, almost lovingly across Kanan's cheek. Blood welled up in the cut as Kanan's breath hitched, and Hera's did a second later, almost in harmony. Sabine moved to her other side, leaning against her as Ezra did, with Zeb looming behind them. As Thrawn moved his knife across more exposed flesh, Kanan repressed a groan, and Zeb growled deeply in the back of his throat.

"They say an artist sees the world as their canvas" Thrawn remarked calmly, watching blood seep slowly from countless wounds. "I'm not sure I can call myself an artist, but you must admit, this is artistry in its own way." Sabine's grip on Hera's arm tightened. "I have to say, I have enjoyed having him here as my guest. But all good things must come to an end." Thrawn's hand passed over Kanan's face, resting on his forehead briefly as he leaned down to his ear. "Is there anything you want to say to them before you go?" Ezra's breathing grew suddenly harsh and he leaned in, eyes fixed on the image of Thrawn. Kanan turned his head slowly towards where he had heard Thrawn standing before, his voice a cracked whisper. "I-I'm sorry. I couldn't- I'm sorry." He tried to say more, but his voice caught, and a deep rattling cough burst from his lips.

Thrawn smiled, and then drew the knife across Kanan's throat.

"No!" Ezra's outburst was accompanied by a crate of supplies, smashing from one side of the room to another as his emotions compressed and then erupted. He could feel his Force bond with Kanan growing weaker, the bond that had been filled with nothing but agony since his capture. Another crate spun violently into the air and then fell abruptly to the ground as Zeb grabbed the young man's arms, giving him a firm shake. Hera had found suddenly that her legs had ceased to work, and had fallen to her knees, resting her forehead on the edge of the comms console and whispering some senseless combination of Basic and Ryl. Sabine stood tall, one hand on Hera's shoulder, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she watched Kanan struggle and choke as his life's blood drained, struggle until he finally went still. Thrawn carefully wiped the knife clean before returning it to his belt, looking over the body.

"A pointless death. No meaning, no sacrifice, nothing to remember him by. He suffered, and he died, here, alone and afraid. How terrible. Ah, well. As I said, I had to keep to my word. Now, I will make you another offer- if you tell me where to send the body, I will deliver it to you. I'm not a monster, after all. The choice is yours." The transmission flickered, and then faded, leaving only silence, and the sounds of grief.


	2. stage 2: denial

**Disclaimer:** I didn't actually expect anyone to read these, but I really appreciate the favorites/follows! Except now I actually have to make sure I post stuff worth reading so... anyways... I'll do my best thanks guys you're all super cool I am not worthy please enjoy the angst.

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Ezra ran. It's what he did best. He had never stopped running, not really, since the day the Empire took his parents. Sure he had stopped running physically more or less once the Ghost had taken him in. But he still in a way he ran, from his past, from his guilt, from his memories, from his fears, and now, now he ran from the truth.

He had left the room at a sprint as soon as he could wrench free of Zeb, careening straight into the wall on the other side of the doorway before clumsily pushing himself off and dashing for the exit. Past pilots, mechanics, and various other Rebels he ran, not caring if he barreled into anyone or had to push them out of the way. The hanger area loomed open in front him and he plunged out into the sunlight, feet hammering on the solid ground of the landing pad before giving way to the softer ground of the forests of Yavin 4. Shouts of confusion rang out behind him, and still he ran. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs faltered, and still he pushed himself onward until finally his body simply gave out, and he collapsed.

Rolling onto his back, he stared upwards, the bright daylight filtered heavily by the trees looming overhead. His chest heaved with exertion but he welcomed the pain his run had brought. It gave him something to focus on besides the inevitable. In and out he breathed, letting the air flood his lungs. It was a beautiful day, and that wasn't fair. The operations and activities he had raced past at the base had been going on like normal. Nothing had changed. Nothing except the gaping hole that Kanan's sudden absence had torn inside him, like someone had reached into his chest cavity and ripped out something he needed to live.

Their bond through the Force as Master and Padawn was silent. After the years of connection they had shared, even with these last days overwhelming anguish, the sudden silence and loss left him more alone than he had ever felt. There was nothing there for him to depend on, nothing to lean on when he needed something to ground his thoughts and emotions. Just a gaping void, the ragged edges curling outwards to consume more of him bit by bit. There was something dark and sharp in that chasm, and already he could feel it growing.

It couldn't be true, he reasoned suddenly. Maybe he couldn't feel Kanan through the Force, and yes, he had watched the transmission with his own eyes, but that didn't mean it had to be true. Transmissions could be faked, Force connections could be suspended or blocked, probably. There was an explanation. He sat up, scattering undergrowth vegetation everywhere. A clever hoax, but really they could expect nothing less from an enemy like Thrawn. No doubt he wanted to pull them apart in their grief, causing poor choices to be made. He had to tell the others before it was too late. Ezra staggered to his feet, leaning against a tree as his legs protested. He had to get back to the base, and quickly. With a wince of pain, he set off at a jog in the direction he came from.

As he jogged back onto firm ground, whispers and pointed stares drifted from all directions, but he brushed them off easily. No doubt his exit had come across as somewhat strange, but it hardly mattered. As he made his way to the comms room, he even managed a cheeky grin at one of the radar technicians, who regarded him with silent solemnity in return.

When he stepped into the doorway, Zeb got to him first, brushing some leftover greenery off Ezra's tunic, and then clamping a huge paw-like hand on his shoulder. "You okay, kid?" His voice was unusually gruff. "Yeah!" Ezra replied brightly, which twisted Zeb's face into a confused scowl. "Everything's gonna be fine. It was just a trick. Easily faked." He gave Zeb another smile, even as the Lesat shook his head slowly. "Ezra..."

Before he could continue, Hera appeared and took Ezra's face in her trembling hands. Her eyes were dry, and her face was set. "It's not a trick. Ezra, I know you don't want to believe this, but we have to. He's gone." Ezra took a step back, pulling his face from her hands as a scowl disfigured his expression. "You're wrong" he protested, one hand clutching at nothing at his chest, like he was trying to hold something invisible close so it didn't disappear. "He's alive. He has to be."

"I'm sorry" Hera whispered, stepping in again to wrap her arms around him in a hug. When had he gotten so tall? The scrawny, underfed kid they had picked up on Lothal was a distant memory. He stood stiffly, his chest rising and falling with deeper and deeper breaths. With each inhale he looked around the room for something to back up his claim.

Zeb stood nearby, only his eyes giving evidence to his sorrow. Sabine was hard at work at the comms console, typing furiously as she tried to trace the transmission to its source. Tears had dried on her cheeks as she worked, throwing single-minded concentration into her task. Chopper was wheeled as close as possible to Hera, one of his little arms extended to touch her leg as he rocked back and forth slightly. Everything came crashing into his denial all at once, shattering it so thoroughly that he started to shake, his deeper breaths turning into short, static inhales. The emptiness inside him sank its icy fingers into his chest, and there was nothing left to fight it.

Seeing the distress in his eyes, Hera hugged him a little closer. Sabine abandoned her work at the keyboard and came to them, crowding in until Hera put one arm around her instead, pulling her kids close. Zeb quietly joined them, encircling his arms around all three, and Chopper bumped gently against Ezra's legs, piping sympathetically. And then, finally, Ezra cried.


	3. stage 3: anger

"I'll do it."

Ezra's blue eyes had grown steely, his arms folded across his chest as he regarded the image of Thrawn frozen at the comm station. The rest of the crew were scattered throughout the room, all mostly lost in their own thoughts and plans. Thrawn's offer had hung unspoken, heavy in the air between them until Ezra had just spoken. The young man's posture was stiff, his expression neutral. After they had all huddled together the day before, right in this very room, he had pulled all of his emotions close to his heart. There was a task to be done.

Hera reached out to put her hand on his shoulder gently. The circles under her eyes had only deepened since yesterday, barely contained grief shining through in her body language and in her expressions. "We can't, Ezra. It's a trap, that much is completely clear. I know you want him back. We all do. It's not right to leave him. But he wouldn't want to put us in danger."

"I don't care" Ezra snapped, twisting so his shoulder pulled out of her touch. His emotions were all still very present, brimming just under the surface, threatening to spill over again. He wouldn't let them. It was easier, so much easier to let the anger build. Right now it was still simmering, but he could feel the heat of it pouring through his veins with each passing moment. It would make him strong, focused.

"I can do it, Hera. You know I can. Just me, I'll choose somewhere I can easily disappear if things go wrong. You have to let me do this." That last line was mostly to pacify the Twi'lek's growing suspicions. Ezra was infamous for being told no, and then disappearing to do exactly the thing he was forbidden. Better she think he was acquiescing to her orders. "Please." He let a tinge of his sorrow creep into his voice, let the faintest hint of tears well up in his eyes as he looked at her. She softened, his display of emotion chipping away at her own. Seconds drifted between them as they looked at each other, his earnest, pleading eyes searching her soft ones. But finally she shook her head, and tried to pull him into a hug. "We can't. It's too dangerous. I can't lose you too."

He allowed the hug, though his first instinct was to yank away. A breath, in and out, and he murmured his assent, agreeing that it was too dangerous, Kanan wouldn't have wanted them to, they should all stay here. Satisfied, Hera gave him one last squeeze and stepped back, touching his cheek with a sad smile before returning to her work. Ezra bent over the comms console, quickly copying the transmission to a tiny portable chip and slipping it into his pocket with the practiced ease of a thief. When he looked up, he found Sabine's eyes on him, her expression knowing as he moved away from the console. "I'm going to get some air" he informed the room, and ducked out into the hallway before Sabine's gaze could pull him back for a confession. Guilt weighed in his chest, but the burn of his anger quickly withered it away as he strode purposefully towards his quarters.

Packing up the essentials was something else he was good at. While he no longer carried his backpack everywhere he went, his pockets, both regular and secret were always stuffed with things he needed, just in case he had to leave everything behind on a moment's notice. Rations and clothes were hastily shoved into his new pack, along with a few miscellaneous items, including a vibroknife and some other small weaponry.

Finally he went to the drawer in his desk, drawing it open slowly and taking a breath as its contents were laid bare. Kanan's lightsaber. They had found it, or rather, Ezra had been drawn to it, hidden deeply in the roots of a huge tree on the planet where Kanan had been captured. No doubt he had hidden it there, hoping that Ezra would do just that and return it to him when the time came. Ezra ran his fingers lightly over the hilt, shuddering at the residual essence of his master. As a padawn, Kanan had been taught that this weapon was his life. As a young man on the run, he had put it away. As still a young man suddenly finding himself with his own padawn, he had re-acquainted himself with the weapon despite misgivings. It had been important, necessary to protect and teach the ones he loved. And now it lay abandoned. Ezra picked it up and nestled it into his bag. He would not leave it behind.

A movement and presence at his doorway made him look up sharply. Sabine was there, as he suspected, her hands on her hips as she looked over the packing process. Her hair and armor were as bright as ever, defiant in the face of grief, even as sorrow permeated the space between them. Ezra sprang to his feet, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "You can't stop me, Sabine, so don't even try."

"I wasn't /going/ to stop you, laserbrain. I'm going with you." Her expression dared him to disagree, so naturally he did immediately.

"No way! It's way too dangerous for two. If I'm alone I don't have to worry about anyone else, plus, I have the Force to help me. You're staying here- and you're not going to tell Hera!"

They stood eye to eye for a moment, each measuring the others' stubbornness. Ezra dodged to the side in an ill-fated attempt to rush by her, and Sabine casually clotheslined him in the neck with a stiff-arm, sending him crashing to the floor. After a short coughing fit he turned over and staggered to his feet, rubbing his neck and trying to contain his murderous expression. Sabine blocked the doorway with a smile. "You're right, I'm not going to tell Hera, because we're both leaving. I'm already packed. You've got the transmission chip?"

A begrudging nod, and she held out her hand. "Give it to me. You lose things."

"That's not true!" he shouted, insulted, and then reigned in his blustering emotions. "Fine. But I'm in charge of this mission." He slapped the chip into her outstretched hand, and re-shouldered his pack. "We better not take the Phantom II, or we'll be in even bigger trouble. I have M- I have that old ship I brought back from Tatooine we can take. It's outside the hanger on the platform so we should be able to get out of here without any trouble."

"I'll meet you there. If you leave without me, I'm bringing the whole Squadron to shoot you down and bring you back."

It was not a threat he was about to take lightly, so he nodded stiffly. After staring in his eyes for another moment to impress how serious she was, Sabine jogged off in the opposite direction of the hanger to retrieve her things.

One last sweep of his own room, and Ezra was off. Times where he could have taken the air vents to sneak to his destination were past, now he had to be extra careful to avoid detection as he slipped out of the base. Whenever he heard or sensed someone approaching he would find another route, actively avoiding having anyone question him about him or his bag. Several twists and turns later, he slipped out of the side of the hanger opening to jog out into the twilight. Maul's ship was right where he left it in a darkened corner of the outside landing pad. He had made sure to leave it fully fueled just in case, and that precaution now paid off. A few preflight checks later, Sabine slid into the co-pilot seat next to him. "I left a note for Hera, so she doesn't worry. As much."

Ezra glanced at the hanger where they left the rest of the crew. "You know we're going to be in a ridiculous amount of trouble when we get back, right? I'm not even sure if it's possible to ground us, but I'm pretty sure Hera will find a way."

"I know" replied Sabine, doing her own checks as she acquainted herself with the craft. "I don't care, and neither do you. Let's bring him home."

Minutes later, the ship lifted away from the base. From inside the hanger, Hera stood watching. As soon as Sabine had followed Ezra out of the room, she had come out to wait, knowing exactly what the two of them were up to. While she had every chance to stop them, instead she watched quietly as her kids disappeared into the night. They would come back safe. They had to.

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Author's Notes: This is going to end terribly, I would imagine. Thanks for the reads, I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! Obviously I would love some feedback whether it be critical, speculative, or desires for the story. Or just continue to lurk and read in silence, that's cool too. :] I appreciate you all no matter what.


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